


Red Is The Color Of Us

by puppydeanandjen



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blow Jobs, Bottom Dean Winchester, Coming Untouched, Dean Winchester Goes to Stanford with Sam Winchester, Dean in Panties, M/M, Making Out, Multiple Orgasms, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Riding, Slight feminization, Stanford Era, Top Sam Winchester, slight size kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 00:34:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17254295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puppydeanandjen/pseuds/puppydeanandjen
Summary: Sam wants Dean to wear something for him.





	Red Is The Color Of Us

**Author's Note:**

> Happy New Year! So I've been working on this for a month now and I'm just making it in beneath the hour mark for the new year. This is my second time writing smut ever, so a lot of this was trial and error for me. Please be gentle. I hope that you guys enjoy this! All mistakes are on me ♡
> 
> Read on [Tumblr](https://puppydeanandjen.tumblr.com/post/181605503077/red-is-the-color-of-us-rating-explicit-ship)

“I-I want you to wear this,” Sam tells him as the door of their apartment shuts behind Dean. Sam’s fidgeting while eyes flicker across the hardwood floor, bangs attempting to hide flushed cheeks that only darken as each second passes. There’s a brown paper bag being held out to him and Dean doesn’t really know what to expect, gently grasping the soft package. **  
**

Something kinky that’s for sure if Sam is this ashamed about it. Not leather. Too squishy to be. A clothing item probably. Role-playing then? Him as the police officer, disciplining the rebel teenager or him as a doctor with a patient in need for some examination or, even better, him as a doctor with a sexy nurse. Sam wearing a tight white dress that reveals his perky ass for easy access. He could get behind that.

They don’t do these type of kinks often, even though their relationship has gone pretty long-well, Dean’s standard long-, been a year and a half since confessions full of sugar and departures had spilled from those pink lips that flared in innocence, later destroyed that night as they turned rosy red around his cock. Then after he’d poured out his heart and soul into Sam-his baby brother-who quivered under him at the stretch of untouched, tight flesh; he’d whispered words of love into the motel room that would forever bore themselves in the walls and themselves, pulling out with white, milky promises of eternity. Together.

“Sure,” he replies, peeking into the package to see nothing that his mind had conjured. He swallows-nervous suddenly as heat pools in his stomach and cock in the thought of him wearing the costume in the package-and seals the paper bag closed, turning his attention back to Sam whose face is still pink, hazel still unable to spare a glance at him. And Dean thinks that this might be okay.

“You don’t-”

“I already said I’d do it,” Dean interjects, winking at him as he allows himself to smirk and there’s relief in Sam’s eyes that jolts a different kind of warmth into him. “See you in a bit, Sammy”

He slips off his shoes (The landlord’s preference and they really don’t want to get kicked out with such affordable rent here) and walks past the kitchen to the small bathroom that sits snug next to the bedroom.

After making sure to shut the door behind him, he sets the bag down onto the granite counter next to the sink. Hands slide the clothing out of its confinement and it’s exactly what he saw earlier. Crimson, sleeveless crop top decorated in thick white stripes that travel halfway down the top along the shape of the v-neck to make a point and a matching, ruffled mini skirt with white tracing around the hem. The cardinal red capital, block letter ‘S’ is printed smack dab in the middle of the white.

Holy shit, Sam actually got him a cheerleading outfit.

Picking up the top, he spots something slide through the fold of the fabric and drops onto the floor. He reflexively bends down to pick it up only to realize what they are after he does, dangling them in front of his face.

Panties. Fucking panties. Sure, he’s not that surprised to find these included in the arrangement, but he had expected something like sexy, satin lingerie which contains hues of pink and red and violet, presenting the most amount of skin possible. Instead, he’s got these: a pair of cotton, white panties with a baby blue bow on the elastic waistband, resembling something that a little kid would wear. Something a fucking virgin pure high school student that would probably only stick up something up her ass if Jesus asked her too would wear.

It’s pure and clean and chaste. Easy to sneak at a shitty Target without any drawing any suspicion from customers; also it provides simple excuses if the cashier asks any questions. He chuckles at the thought, placing both of the items down on the counter as he strips, belt buckles clacking onto the floor as he stumbles out of pants while ripping off flannel.

He pulls the cotton over the flesh of his ass-gentle across his skin-and tucks his limp cock inside, concealing almost everything in a neat, compact pack with no array hairs. It’s lucky that Dean’s all shaven down below after Sam’s complaints of strands tickling his anus when they have sex...Maybe, Sam was planning that all along. There’s no need to worry about it now though.

After that, he shuffles the skirt and crop top on, fitting almost perfectly around his frame; however, they’re a bit snugger around the waist than the top with only a couple of centimeters left of wiggle room, but it’s what he’d expected.

Dean’s slender; not as skinny and gawky as Sam during their first time, but he still has the toned stomach of a football student-athlete from the daily training that he pushes himself through and the heavy-duty work that comes with his job as a mechanic at a nearby garage. Plus he’s a guy, meaning broader shoulders and hips. He’s just surprised that the set seems to be on the looser side in terms of size.

Gazing over to the bathroom mirror, he inspects all the curves of himself. Crimson makes his fair complexion seem paler and darkens his lips to the point of a whore’s lipstick red. Bare skin across his body-from the freckles dotted on his tummy to the little hairs on his thighs-is now revealed by the skimpy clothing. There’s no hiding anymore. Everything is easy to access. Exactly what his baby brother had planned.

Kinky little bitch.

His hands find themselves jerking the skirt down in futile attempts to cover the cotton white underneath as he twists the knob open. There’s heat pooling in his stomach again that he shouldn’t be feeling. Shouldn’t be embarrassed (There’s only Sammy outside), yet his instincts never got that memo apparently.

When he steps out into the small box-shaped area of their living room and kitchen, he notices Sam leaning against the clean, shiny granite kitchen counter. (The Newest thing in their apartment after the old tile had shattered due to a collision with a ceiling lamp) Sam’s back is halfway towards him, yet Dean can still see the pink laced in his ears and a pair of black, blocky nerd glasses in Sam’s fingers, fiddling them as if deliberating whether or not to wear them. A baggy, deep red Stanford hoodie accompanied by simple, blue jeans adorns his frame like usual, but Dean’s only hyper-aware of the apparel now.

So this is the game they’re planning. The hot cheerleader and the nerdy freshman.

His dick twitches with interest, soft fabric rubbing against his cock attempting to rise to full hardness. Before Dean realizes it, his bare feet take gentle, creaking steps upon the hardwood floor towards his baby brother.

Sam turns at the sound-as expected-and flushes deeper than ever, redder than a freakin apple. The glasses fall onto the ground and Dean’s nervousness falls with it. It clatters at impact, but he gives no time for Sam to even think about it, rushing toward him in long, yet sultry strides. Crowding his little brother against the counter, he attempts to take control of the situation, only to realize that Sammy’s so much taller and sturdier than him now.

When did that happen?

He shakes himself out of the thought, focusing on pining his kid brother with a thigh between the legs and palms resting against the cool granite on both sides of Sam’s hips. Dean can feel Sam’s manhood harden more in his jeans as Dean rubs his bare skin against it.

“God, Dean,” Sam whimpers, vulnerable even though he’s the one wearing pants.  

And Dean can’t help but kiss him then and there, leaning in close as he stands on the tips of his toes to actually reach his brother’s face. His tongue pleads for entrance that Sam readily gives way to and they’re moaning into the each other’s lips as tongues tangle in a salvia filled war; it’s messy in every way just wanting to taste more of the sweetness that can only be found in home and each other.

He feels like a fucking hormonal teenager, yet that’s what he always feels around Sam.  

There are trembling hands against Dean’s neck-scared, yet yearning to pull him in closer, attempting to swallow more and more, fully intoxicate itself with all that’s Dean. The longer they kiss, the more courage those finger gain. Cold skin trails across the expanse of Dean, down the thin, scanty fabric that rubs against his nipples, down bare curves of his waist, down past the flimsy skirt to his ass, cradling each cheek in huge hands that make him feel so fucking small and Dean shudders, sensitive and weak to each touch.

It shouldn’t be turning him on (He’s the dominant one, always has been), yet he can’t deny that his dick is beginning to gain interest, poking against the fabric contraption.

They’re panting as they part, a string of spit interlocking them for a just a bit longer. Sam’s looks even more wrecked than when he’s getting fucked into the next week: wide, hazel eyes and glossy, rosy lips and completely breathless. Shit.

“C-Come on,” Dean says when he’s able to speak, gripping Sam’s wrist to tear it away from his ass, dragging them to the worn out, fluffy couch they picked up at a garage sale.

Shoving his brother down onto the couch, his hands practically start ripping Sam’s belt off, taking the pants and briefs down with it, revealing the large cock beneath that now stands tall and proud to Sam’s obvious embarrassment. Dean kneels in its presence, trailing his hand gingerly over the length-feeling the pulsing veins around it and rubbing a finger directly over the slit to induce a couple of creamy droplets to appear-while Sam groans. He licks his lips.

“Nerds deserve some cheering too, don’t they?” Dean says before bending in closer-adjusting his own cock up in the panties to prevent his boner from stabbing itself into the cushion-and kitten licking around his baby brother’s weeping dick, batting his eyelashes as he stares up with shiny, green eyes that Dean knows Sam can’t deny. Lust burns through Sam’s eyes, but there’s still a shyness overwhelming the need to act upon that desire.

“Deeean, stop teasing,” Sam whines, hands rising to touch him. They pause halfway, hovering in the space of doubt.“Pleeaseee” The pitch rises as Dean licks a long strip upward, devouring the bittersweet milk that comes his way. His hands lay over Sam’s thigh for a better grip while his tongue licks over the tip. Familiar hisses burst in Dean’s ears when he finally dives in, fucking his mouth on his little brother’s dick, feeling the hot and heavy weight of it against his mouth.

Fuck, how would that feel in him? Just the thought makes him whimper.

He sucks and licks and hums around the length in ways that he knows will drive Sam crazy. It works with the way how Sam groans so loudly, forming incoherent words that sound like broken forms of ‘Dean’ and ‘yes’. Must work a little too well as hands begin to grasp and yank the short blonde strands to push Dean lower and lower on Sam’s porno cock.

Dean doesn’t gag or tear-already used to the sensation of his baby brother’s manhood down his throat-, yet he can’t escape the long moan erupting in his mouth, causing the vibrations to shoot through both of them.

He doesn’t have much control either as Sam continues to pull at his hair. So he moves a hand away from the thighs, fingers trailing back to his own dick that stands flushed against him due to the elastic band, dipping fingers inside the cotton, and soaking it in the pre-come that’s around the head. Then his hand inches closer to the Sammy’s smooth, tiny hole, circling around the ring, and proceeds to insert two inside, spreading the taut flesh apart in methodical scissoring motions.  

“N-No wait-ahh,” Sam gasps, so broken in both pain and pleasure as Dean dips a little more in. Doesn’t last long as the Sam tugs his hair back, causing fingers and dick slip out. Emeralds gaze up to meet hazels in the haze of the desperate.“Don’t wanna come. Not yet. Not like this.”

He stares at him, shocked because they’re doing this. Actually for the first time. A cheeky grin grows across Dean’s face.

“You saving that all for me, baby. Wanna put your big cock into me,” Dean whispers-voice dripping in sickly-sweet honey-, crawling into his baby brother’s lap, so his legs rest on either side of Sam’s thighs, the skirt swaying seductively with the movements. “Pop my cherry as I did to you?” It isn’t the exact truth; Dean’s been fucked before by truckers at random bars for cash to feed his baby brother. He can be quite persuasive with his cock sucking lips and dewy, doe eyes and a plump ass that burly men seem to adore, scoring at least a hundred bucks from each poor sucker. But this is Sammy. Everything is different with Sammy.

“Gonna have to prep me first,” Dean continues, nipping at Sam’s neck while scooting himself closer so until their erections press flush against each other through the clothing. “Never tried fingering a hole beside your own huh, Sammy? Don’t worry, I’ll teach you.” He gives a playful bite to the ear that makes Sam whimper before drawing back.

“You have any-” Dean starts.

Sam automatically reaches into his hoodie pocket to whip out a small tube of lube. Dean blinks in surprise, but it soon turns back into a cocky smirk.

“All prepared. Such a good, little boy scout.” He carefully plucks the tube from Sam’s hands and flicks the bottle open, meticulously coating those very fingers with the cool, slippery liquid as if he were massaging them. They’re long and thick and he wonders how they’ll feel inside him. It’s been a while since he’s gotten fucked. “Well, maybe not little”

Once he finished, he tosses it to the side and reaches to the back of the skirt to pull the panties down just enough to keep his boner inside, grabbing the slick hand and moving it to his rear, shuddering at the sudden chill as liquid touches burning skin.  

“Just slip them in Sammy,” Dean tells. Sam nods, furrowing his brows like he’s trying to solve some stupid math problem, and pushes into him and Dean twitches at the strain and, god, they’re just as big as he thought they were. Fucking ginormous, searing into him and filling him up so good.

“Are they really that big, Dean?” Sam asks and Dean opens his eyes-when were they closed?-to see Sam's cheeky grin. Dean wants to fuck that arrogance out of him. Flip him face down on the ground and spank his ass.

But then Sam’s sliding that finger in and out of him at a steady speed that only increases each time and it’s all forgotten in the sizzling hunger for more. Yet when the second one comes in, Dean chokes.

Sam stops immediately-pulling them out in tune to a squelching sound-,smile dropping as he gazes up with worry decorating the pupils.

“I-I’m alright,” Dean shakily says, trying to smirk again to dissipate that fear. “Been a while. Just go slow.”

Sam nods, gently sticking his fingers back in and gradually slithering them further through the warm cavern; the walls of it stretch accordingly to fit the intrusion like it was built for this and Dean is built for this. Built for Sam.

He drives his eager ass back to swallow more and more of the pleasure prodding into him.

Then they hit it. The spot that makes the edges of his eyes go white and he fucking _mewls_ like a girl. Like the cheerleader girl he is.

And Sam can’t seem to leave it alone, pleasure only growing with each twist and turn that splits him so fucking open to the point where Dean has to burrow his face into cushion of the couch, grasp Sam’s shoulders for support, and dig his teeth into his lip so that nothing else humiliating escapes.

Doesn’t even register the third until the fourth has entered inside, pumping into him fast and hard.

That’s when he pulls away because _where the fuck did this confidence come from?_ Then he sees it. How dark and predatory his baby brother’s face looks as if the only thing he could think about is how much he craves for Dean. How much he wants to pin Dean down and make him just take everything. Dean shivers at that.

Finger retract back, wrapping around sides of his hips instead as Dean’s manhandled directly above Sam’s dick.

“No condom?” Dean asks and Sam just spears into him in one slow, slick motion-eliciting a long moan from him-in response. Dean throws his head back at the pain from the sudden stimulation, beginning to shake at the heat and weight nestled deep in his stomach. Ragged puffs of air are forced in and out of his throat as he attempts to just breathe from being so full right now-no room for anything except Sam.

“Fuck yourself,” Sam orders.

And Dean does just that. Lifting himself up and down the impossible girth and length in erratic thrust, grunting as he does. His ass smacks itself onto Sam’s hips in a way that he knows will leave the stinging color of red.

There’s a deep chuckle as fingers crawl up his skin again, sneaking itself underneath the crop top to tweak his nipples, causing Dean to arch backward and moan long again. Then he comes back to have soft fabric shoved into his mouth-the bottom of the top he soon realizes-which results in Dean’s chest to be revealed. No more protection against fluttering touches.

“You’re never going to come at that pace, Dean,” Sam says as hands travel down the frame to his waist, pushing him down to the hilt.

He won’t. He already knows that. But he can only grind back helplessly and sink his teeth into the cloth as Sam tilts his head to meet the pink nubs. Sam’s lips peck each one first before sucking at them-transitioning between the two-so intensely like he actually believes that breast milk will drip from them and Dean downright sobs. Can’t do anything but watch as his nipples become just as rosy as Sam’s lips.

He’s a wanton mess when Sam finishes, ready to explode at any time. And the bitch fucking knows that as one hand lowers itself down to tease at his erection with gentle strokes to his clothed penis; and Dean’s unable to see it happening because of the crimson skirt blocking his view, but he can feel everything.

“So hot. So perfect in this slutty outfit because that’s you are, aren’t you? My needy, little slut that needs his little brother’s cock in him all the time. Don’t you, Dean?” Sam says, low and husky, and Dean can feel his cheeks rush with heat, ending up nodding his head in response and squirming in hopes for more friction, receiving quicker strokes in reward. He moans so loudly that he’s sure it’ll resound through the entire floor. “I want to see you wet your panties. Can you do that for me, Dean?” Sam gives one lick at his nipple, invoking a whimper from him.

“Come for me”

A shout erupts from Dean as he comes, hole clenching around the still buried dick, drenching the girly undies. Sam continues to jack him through his orgasm, trying to coax every last drop from him, and Dean can’t do anything but fall forward onto his baby brother. Sated and limp.

Easy for Sam to simply lift him up again and shove him back down on his giant cock, forcing a wail out of him. Tears begin welling in his eyes from the pain, but the pleasure he feels overwhelms that. His dick is flaccid as Sam fucks into his lax entrance like he were a sex doll. A fuckhole.

Each push down is met with a thrust up-Sam grunting at each one-and it’s not long before Dean’s prostate is found again, cock twitching back to life at each thrust. Sam seems to have a damn lock on it because it’s all that he’s hitting.

And, only after a few more, Dean’s panting as his erection presses full against his belly, stammering words that don’t even register in his ears. Praise maybe. But whatever it is, Sam is now moving faster, pounding into him harder with more rigid, more desperate thrust.

Going to come soon.

Dean’s right on the mark as Sam engulfs himself right down to the balls and comes with an unabashed moan, filling Dean up. Surpassing the fucking brim to the point that Dean thinks his stomach is bloating slightly from the sheer amount of come within and that’s when he comes for the second time-completely untouched except for the rub of the silky material confining his cock.

He blacks out for a few seconds, minutes, centuries to find himself slumped against his baby brother’s brawny torso with a limp dick still inside him. He’s so sedated and feeble and loose, mind on cloud nine as he focuses on the thumps in his ears while heavy breathes escape his lips, uncomfortably wiggling a bit due to the soggy flesh up his sore hole. It takes a few minutes for him to actually be able to raise his head.

Mustering all his strength, he lifts himself off of Sam with his knees, feeling the tug of cotton slipping back over his ass as a blurt of come dribbles out of him before those strong hands move to curl around the bare skin of his waist, stabilizing him while inching him backward. Beautiful, dark amber eyes begin to observe the depths of Dean now that it’s all raw in the open-always has been, but the truth of vulnerability is undeniable here-and fucked apart by his own little brother. Their breaths are ragged, matching each other’s speeds, and time seems to be slowing down as they stare at each other.

Beads of sweat trails down the curves of Sam’s jaw, bang sticking to the forehead, expression almost dazed as cherry red lips part. Warm, gentle fingers beginning to travel across his body, exploring every inch. As hands dip underneath the hem of the skirt, his little brother’s eyes begin to twinkle in all the ways that make Dean’s heart swirl.

“You’re leaking,” Sam says, deep and low, in sheer amazement that fills into arousal. Dean unwillingly shivers and whimpers, when fingers start to rub against the come-soaked fabric as if they were trying to press into his sloppy hole again through the fucking panties. “Like a goddamn pussy”

And Dean can feel it; sticky liquid cool against his ass and dick, some of it traveling down his thighs. He’d squirted so easily like a ten buck underaged, virgin hooker. _‘Only for Sammy’_. He thinks, pulling a shit eaten grin while his hand reaches for Sam’s cock in front, already half hard-praise to the adolescents-as Dean strokes it back to full length only a few seconds later.

“I bet it’ll get even wetter if you shoot another load in,” Dean states.

It doesn’t take long for him to be pummeled into the couch.


End file.
